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05/22/10(Sat)10:38:36 No.230422XXX File1274539116.gif-(5
KB, 400x400, familiar.gif)
I've been married for seven
years, /b/. She's moving out at the beginning of June. This is not the
first time. It is, however, the last time. We married when we were
young, 21. We have three kids. We have almost nothing in common except
that the way we loved each other was ludicrous in its depth and
intensity. We just can't seem to live together. We fight, all the time.
About a year ago she was diagnosed with fibromyalgia, which to me
explained her steadily declining sex drive over the last five years.
This is separation number five. We've both made our share of stupid,
marriage-ending mistakes. I am by no means innocent, but I've never left
her. I took her back each time she left. The last time I told her I
couldn't do it anymore and wouldn't take her back. We fell back into
sleeping together after a week. A few months later she wanted to move
back in together. We waited for about six months. Finally, satisfied she
was committed to making it work, I moved into a larger apartment and
invited her to come with me. Three months later she told me she couldn't
do it anymore and was moving out. Each time she's left, it's hurt less.
This time I asked her if this was really what she wanted. She said it
was. Each time we've split, she's found someone to fuck within a few
weeks. I will admit that I cheated on her a few years ago. She's done
the same. Overall, our marriage has been happy. It's been wonderful when
it was good. It's horrific when its bad. |